I never talk about age because, to me, it really is just a number.
A number that continues to change as time passes by and all I really want is for time to stand still in this beautiful gift of life that I am in.
Growing up in south Texas, I was taught that a lady never discloses her age. I was told it is rude to ask a woman how old she is and when someone asks you, it is proper to smile with a nod of the head and say “a lady never tells!”
I have never been a person who liked lavish birthday celebrations with all of the attention on how old I am getting. I always secretly dread the day as the calendar starts to tick down to April 17th and this year, in particular, I was feeling a knot start to build in my throat when I thought about how old I was turning.
As women, we put an incredible amount of pressure on ourselves to be perfect and in the past several months I started to really take a look at my life and ask myself if this is where I thought I’d be on April 17, 2018. You know what? After a few ups and downs, a faked “I’m actually okay” followed by a complete sob over my age, I have finally made it full circle to a state of acceptance.
The other day, Grant asked me “would you really want to go back to 25?” and I immediately snapped back “no way!” Don’t get me wrong, I loved my 20’s and I loved feeling young and free, but now I feel so much more, so much different and so much wiser.
I have been on this planet for 35 years and I have lived; I have survived. From travels to Kenya and Hong Kong, through minor surgeries and illness, experiencing major heartache and loss, happiness, struggle and triumph – I have lived and it is something to be celebrated. I have learned this year that birthdays are a time to celebrate life. And I do not mean celebrate life in the physical sense, I mean birthdays are a time to celebrate living.
So cheers to living and not paying too much attention to what your age is. I may be 35 today but I’ve never felt more youthful and free.